


Stranger from the Sky

by redradioflyer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alien Culture, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Scientists, M/M, park ranger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 15:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17082578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redradioflyer/pseuds/redradioflyer
Summary: Matthew is quite happy to do his job as a park ranger and mind his own business in his little isolated cabin when a strange creature comes barreling out of the woods- a human. Matthew has never seen a human before, and alien entry to Matthew's planet is strictly forbidden. Still, Matthew wouldn't leave a man stranded in a strange wood on a strange planet, and he takes the human named Alfred into his house.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this story was called "Stranger Things" but after the netflix show came out, it's gotten some confusion. So I went ahead and changed the title here.

There’s a crash in the trees behind his cabin, and Matthew grabs his stun gun. Sometimes the creatures of the reserve get a little too inquisitive for their own good, and although chasing them off usually works, sometimes those animals return anyways. Those animals are often sedated and relocated. With practiced care, he steps out of his backdoor, and he flips on his strong lights.

Suddenly there’s a rustling, and a strange sound he’s never heard. A human breaks the line of trees at the edge of his yard, and Matthew panics. He fires, stunning the man and watching him crumple.

Matthew comes close to him- cautiously- and blinks down at the fair skinned human. This is the first time for he’s ever met a human.

In fact, it’s his first time meeting an alien.

With apprehension, Matthew leans down to check the human for injuries and to ascertain that the shock indeed hadn’t killed him. Thankfully the man is still breathing, and his heart seems to be beating. Brushing his hair out of his face, Matthew studies the sleeping human- blond hair, smooth skin, likely young.

What's he supposed to do now?

—

Matthew had made the alien comfortable as he could. Honestly, he isn’t paid enough for this. He is a park ranger for one of the largest nature preserves on the planet, and he loves his job. It mostly means he can be a hermit in a socially acceptable way, and he can enjoy and interact with nature every day. That isn’t to say he wants to be completely isolated from society, and he often leads hikes and tours through the area. There are other rangers at outposts stationed throughout the reserve, and they all keep in touch with each other to be sure that no one gets lost or injured.

All in all, it's a pretty good life for Matthew.

Why did this human choose to crawl out of his part of the forest?

There’s a sound at the door, and he looks up to find the intruder gazing at him in admiration. It makes his face hot, and he waves the other close to give him a glass of water. He isn’t really sure if his food is edible to humans, but he’s strenuously purified the water to make sure it was palatable to him.

All aliens drank water right?

He tries to speak to him, but the alien blinks at him in confusion. It’s clear that he’s straining to listen and understand, but that doesn’t seem to help. This is going to get complicated fast…

Suddenly the alien lights up and grabs a pad of paper from one of his many pockets, and he scribbles something across it. When Matthew looks closer, he gasps in surprise. It’s the old language that his species had united under when they first began communicating with aliens.  Everyone learned it in school and most of their old literature is still available in this form. But… it is also incredibly difficult to decipher if you didn’t keep in good practice.

He scrunches up his nose and tries to glean the basic meaning from it. It would be difficult but it’s better than no communication at all.   

— 

Alfred wakes up with a headache. He doesn’t really know where he is at first, and he sits up to gaze around the room. The building is made of stone, sleek and smooth, and he slides his fingers along the surface. When he moves, the bed creaks just a bit below him, and he finally makes the connection as to where he is.

Finally, after all these years of being obsessed, Alfred is on Vakir, and he’s going to meet a real vrasus. Well, he’d sort of met one the night before but he only got a glimpse of him before he was zapped: tall, large, dark violet eyes, skin a light shade of blue, tail, thick curling blonde hair. Of all the aliens that humans knew of and encountered, vrasus are the most human like of them all. Structure, physical cycles, appearance, even down to the DNA. As an astrobiologist, these similarities are something to be explored and studied.  Alfred had studied so many other species already, but the vrasus is the group that had captured his particular attention.  

Frustratingly though, the vrasus home world had long ago become a closed planet, barred from space traffic. The closing of their planet had started with a war, like many things do. Long before humans had discovered space flight (well, long before humans had even mastered travel over their own planet), the vrasus had started an intergalactic war that had left whole planets smoldering husks. Only by combined efforts of the other space faring species had the vrasus been beaten back and overcome.

Though they’d been on the brink of extinction, the remaining vrasus had been banished back to their homeworld, and all their technology for space flight had been confiscated.

Other species had occupied the planet for centuries after, restricting vrasus access to technology, and court marshaling any scientists and engineers attempting to make new space worthy vessels to flee. After the occupation had finished, however, the vrasus had become tired of intergalactic politics and involvement, and the then-united government had closed the planet- no vrasus leave, and no other species are allowed to land. There is disagreement as to why this decision was reached, but all of the reasoning is ultimately just down to speculation.

What it meant in a practical sense is that there were only two or three vrasus that ever leave their home planet, and only then to manage some minor relations and trade as necessary.

The war was so long ago and communication with the vrasus so far between that not much knowledge of their culture and language remained in the universe save their own planet. In fact, Alfred only knows of their biology because it is one of the few carefully preserved pieces of information just in case another war started. As morbid as it sounds, the information would be vital then.

Alfred thinks it’s incredibly wasteful. The vrasus was one of the first species to master intergalactic space flight, and humans’ own advances in that science had been fast forwarded by centuries when humans had found an abandoned vrasus outpost in a cave system on Mars. It had been cleverly hidden from anyone viewing from afar, but once humans had landed on Mars themselves to explore, it had been found relatively quickly. Study on the material left behind started immediately.

It is one of the greatest mysteries for humans- why were vrasus there, had they interacted with early humans? Where they studying the solar system?  Or perhaps the biology of Earth life?   

Alfred wants answers so badly he can’t stand it. He could write in the language of the vrasus- humans called it Vakirith-, but it is the old language. It had been decoded long ago, but he doesn’t know how to speak it. Deep in the past, it had been possible to learn the language, but the lack of vrasus in space had quickly squashed the need. There are left over transmissions and videos from the war still, but time had seen to it that even those were few and far between. It left Alfred with knowledge of an ancient writing and grammar system and a vague idea how certain symbols are pronounced.

But Alfred has always been an optimist. He’d figured that he’d learn when he got here.

Time to go meet his new alien friend.

—

Alfred finds him in what seems to be a kitchen. All he can do at first is gaze at him in admiration- on closer inspection he can see that although his new friend is light blue, he has splotches of small darker dots across his nose and cheeks that must be something like freckles. He can see how this creatures hands are shaped, only three fingers and a thumb and all thicker than Alfred’s own. Vrasus have wider faces and shorter, flatter noses in general which is true for this one as well. Alfred knows that they can range in color too, but he rather likes this alien’s coloring. This alien also has a long blue prehensile tail, and immediately Alfred wants to study it.

 All in all, the inspection of this alien leaves him speechless and excited.

Then the alien tries to talk to him, and though he’s heard some of the sounds, he has trouble telling them apart when they’re coming so fast. It doesn’t help either that he can see that the alien’s incisors are larger than a humans, giving him a fanged appearance. Alfred shakes his head after a moment, and he reaches into one of his many pockets to retrieve a pad of paper and a pen.

Painstakingly in Vakirith, he writes, “ATTACKED. ESCAPE SHIP CRASHED INTO THE WOODS. THANKS FOR ASSISTANCE.”

The alien seems surprised and maybe even impressed, and Alfred beams. He’s been studying for a long time. It takes the alien a rather long time to figure out what it says, which supports Alfred’s ideas that perhaps this language is incredibly outdated. Finally though, the alien looks back up at him and smiles his understanding. He moves to a cabinet and asks Alfred something in his language. When he opens the box, it turns out it’s some sort of first aid kit. The alien gestures from it to Alfred, expression questioning.

 _Awwww, how sweet. He wants to make sure I’m not injured from the crash!_ Alfred shakes his head again and closes the box. Still he grins and gives him a thumbs up. At that, the alien arches a brow and smiles. Alfred  _thinks_ he knows how to pronounce the symbols for thank you.

The attempt makes the alien laugh. It’s a high, almost fluting sound, and Alfred blushes and points to the “thanks for assistance” written on his notepad. The alien nods and points, saying the words out loud for him.

Oh, Alfred had said them very wrong…

He mimics, badly, but it seems the attempt has made the other comfortable with him- or at least amused enough to relax.

“Alfred,” he says finally, pointing to himself. “Alfred. My name is Alfred.”

The alien blinks at him and doesn’t understand. Carefully Alfred writes the word 'name' on the pad then points to himself again. “Alfred!”

A flicker of comprehension sparks in his eyes, and he nods. “Alfred,” he says as he points at the human. His accent on the words turn his name into “Al-u-fed” but it’s close enough.

Alfred nods and points at the word ‘name’ and then to the alien.

The alien smiles and points to himself and says… Something. Alfred makes him repeat a few times, but all he can seem to get is a “Ma” then some sort of trilling sound and then ending with the ‘yew’. He tries a few times to say it, and the alien laughs long and hard at his attempts. It seems these aliens do flush with warmth, and it turns his cheeks a lovely light purple.

Tired of being laughed at, he grasps about for the closest human name he can think of to call him and says, “Matthew!”

After a moment, the alien seems to understand, though he’s still laughing at him, and he nods. “Maff-yew,” he says in mimic of Alfred’s voice, clearly teasing him. His eyes are sparkling with amusement. “Alufed, Maff-yew.”

Matthew is smiling hard enough that Alfred can’t even be mad.

“Call me Al,” he tells him and reaches out to shake his hand.

After a moment of hesitation, Matthew lets Alfred take his hand, and then he shakes. It’s a way of being polite, but of course, the alien doesn’t understand this at all. Matthew raises an eyebrow- the blond standing out in an interesting way against the blue- and looks amused. He seems to understand the idea even if the gesture is lost on him.

When he’d first landed in the middle of what seemed like endless woods, Alfred had been worried that he’d end up dying out in the wilderness.

Instead, it seems destiny might just be on his side this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose to standardize Matthew’s name as Matthew instead of trying to make up a romanization for an alien language. I’m lazy.
> 
> And also, in future bits, unless otherwise stated, this story will be using an alien language- Matthew’s- and Alfred will be learning it. Since it’ll still all be in English, of course, I won’t accent Alfred’s English, but his word order and speech patterns may be strange to reflect the fact that he started out learning Matthew’s language based on an old version of his language.


	2. Sickness

Matthew’s new human companion is sick. He doesn’t really know what to do. It makes sense, of course, for Alfred to be sick. Crash landing on a planet that humans have never been on would do that. With reluctance, Matthew had been testing various foodstuffs- plants mostly- to see what he could feed him that wouldn’t make him sick. There are a few fruits that Alfred seemed to like.

But that is a matter of luck and a few expressions to confirm or deny something working. Curing the sick of a creature he knew barely the basics about, well, Matthew is in the dark. Even though he works with and assists many animals in the reserve, he knows the basic biological setup of them all. Even more, he has medicine that he knows that they can take. He fears giving Alfred anything because Matthew’s medicine might actually poison him instead of cure him.

Honestly, Matthew shouldn’t even be helping him. It is illegal for Alfred to be on his planet, much less in his room. In the best case scenario, Matthew could get roped into a legal nightmare simply by harboring him.

But when Alfred, face red with fever, reaches for him and rambles at him deliriously in his strange little babbling human language, Matthew wants nothing more than to protect him and nurse him back to health.

Now if only he knew how…

—

Alfred is a scientist first and foremost. Some would argue that he was actually a child before he was anything, but Alfred holds the firm belief that being a child and being a scientist is much the same thing. To be a scientist, he reasons, you have to have the wide-eyed curiosity of a child and also the child-like stubborn, single-minded determination to get what you want.

These are things that Alfred has in spades.

That’s why even on his sick bed, he’s taking notes. What sort of virus is this, is there an Earth equivalent, is it serious? When the fever abates a bit, Alfred moves over to an armchair in the corner of Matthew’s room. It’s in front of a computer of some sort. It doesn’t seem functional for general computing, but more so a database of the life on the reserve, charts and diagrams about their biology, and pages of information that Alfred assumes is the proper care of them.

As expected, the language now is incredibly different, and he labors with it. Still, the basic symbols are pretty similar so he’ll just have to relearn grammar and meaning. Maybe Matthew could teach him that.

Alfred falls asleep like that, curled in an armchair with 30 tabs open to diagrams and articles about different animals, plants, and insects that live in the woods. When Matthew nudges him awake, he’s pretty sure he has a fever again. Although he can’t understand his words, Alfred knows that the other is scolding him. With surprising ease, Matthew carries him back to bed. Although he really wants to, Alfred finds he’s too dizzy and hot to even study Matthew up close.

If only Alfred could get to his ship, he has medicine there. When he’d crashed he’d taken as much food and water as he could carry because he didn’t know how long he’d be lost in the woods. Even his backpack had ended up forgotten down near his last campsite before finding Matthew’s home.

Maybe if Matthew can find that though, he can make his way to the downed ship.

—

For all Alfred’s intelligence- and he clearly is smart- he can’t draw to save his life. Matthew watches as the poor sick man tries to draw a map to where his shuttle came down. The shuttle looks like a potato [1] with wings, and it is lodged in what must be trees but looked more like action lines. It gave the image the odd effect of the shuttle perpetually crashing. Then, Alfred draws trees and a path through the woods. At one point he draws a lump hanging from a tree- a bag of some sort…?- and what must be the remains of a fire. Then he draws more path, and then a picture of Matthew’s house.

Thankfully he does put little labels on them and notes down that he was travelling north to get to Matthew’s house. Alfred grins at him even despite how bad he obviously feels, and he circles the bag several times. Then he writes something else. After a moment of deciphering the archaic words, Matthew realizes that there’s a GPS to find the ship stowed inside the bag. At least it looks as though the bag is close to the house. A few more scribbles on the paper inform him that Alfred had hung the pack up for the night to keep animals out of it when he realized he saw Matthew’s kitchen lights come on at the top of the hill. In his excitement Alfred had left the bag.

Matthew puts a water bottle near the bed for Alfred and gives him very stern instructions to stay in bed. From the way that the other looks, all tired and dozing already, it isn’t necessary scolding (or even one the man understands), but it makes Matthew feel better.

After gathering his gear, Matthew goes back to the spot that Alfred had burst out of the bushes. Matthew’s cabin is at the top of a steep hill, and he looks down the length of it. There among the trees [2] near a thicket he thinks he can see the area Alfred must have been stopping for the night. He slides carefully down the hill, following the still obvious path where Alfred had scrambled up. The walk after that isn’t hard, and after pushing through some underbrush he’s finding the little area that Alfred was building camp in.

His backpack is hanging from the tree, and Matthew moves to let it down. He glances back in the direction of the house and hums. Honestly, if he finds the shuttle, he’ll have to have a vehicle to haul it with. He’d take his transport. First though, he has to find the GPS. He opens the pack, and he finds a whole stock of dehydrated foods and several large bottles of water. This isn’t that odd considering any reasonably equipped escape pod should have rations. There are notebooks too though, taking up part of the space and curiously Matthew opens one. Page after page are all written in Alfred’s particular scrawling handwriting, though it’s all in his funny human language.

He tucks it back inside and finds the a few medical supplies, bandages mostly, and then he finds the GPS. There are other basics for forest survival, but nothing to attract particular interest. Shaking his head, he stands and pulls the pack on. He’d have to get his rough terrain vehicle- the one with the large flatbed in the back for transporting larger animals. Although Matthew had never seen an escape pod, he can only assume that it’s not very big. Otherwise, they’d take up a lot of ship space right? 

After climbing the hill again, he brings Alfred’s pack to him, and he finds that the man has already fallen asleep. He smiles a little at this, knowing rest is good for him. Coming close, he takes the moment to truly study him. It is so disconcerting to Matthew to be looking at an alien that is so similar to his own species in overall appearance. Yet still, he is incredibly different. Matthew had studied the different space faring species in school, though it wasn’t much and only then it was vague and not very interesting. 

Matthew reaches down and brushes Alfred’s hair off of his forehead. His face and hair is slick with sweat, and Matthew frowns. He goes to wet a rag and brings it back to him. After he’s carefully put it on his forehead, he makes his way back to the door and puts on his hiking boots. He grabs the keys to his transport and gets a move on.

—

Alfred is just barely awake when Matthew gets back. Matthew’s hair is mussed, and he still has leaves caught in his clothes. When he notices Alfred looking, he grins and holds up the complete medical kit from the pod. All Alfred can manage in his half asleep, fevered state is to reach for him and smile.

“Awww Matthew ya found it, thanks,” he murmurs in English.  He sits up and the rag falls from his forehead.

As he takes the box, Matthew sits on the edge of his bed. The tip of his tail twitches back and forth. Alfred laughs softly. He starts to tell Matthew that he looks like a cat, but then he realizes that Matthew might not even know what that is if he even knew how to say it in his language. Instead he finds himself some medicine- it might not take care of the virus directly, but it would help with his symptoms enough to think of some long term treatment and solutions.

After he takes the medicine, he flops back down onto the bed. They could figure out the rest together. Alfred mimics the way Matthew had said “Thank you” before and takes his hand. Matthew smiles down at him and holds his hand until he falls asleep. 

—

For the first two months of Alfred’s stay on Virka he’s sick. It’s an on and off sort of sickness, but it leaves him too weak for too much exploration. Some nights, Alfred is sicker than usual, and Matthew stays up by his bed to keep watch over him. He’s hoping that once Alfred’s body adjusts to the planet and gets over this initial wave of sickness that he’ll be fine. As he watches over him at night, Alfred calls out as he dreams and twists in the sheets. Matthew has never heard words like them, but he thinks from the imploring way that Alfred says them that they must be names. On those nights, Matthew holds his hand and whispers to him gently to try and calm him down.

Matthew sees to it that Alfred stays indoors and resting, and he begins the process of teaching Alfred how to speak properly. It turns out having the old language as a basis makes Alfred a quick study. Although his accent is rather bad and his word ordering is shoddy, he learns to communicate out of necessity.

Alfred is spirited and kind, intelligent and funny, and an odd mix of trying to be respectful but also treating Matthew like a long lost friend. It’s hard to be around him for any amount of time without getting swept up in Alfred’s enthusiasm for life.

Matthew couldn’t turn Alfred in to the authorities now even if he wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1]: Potatoes do not exist as such on Virka, but the reference is similar. The plant Matthew is imagining is a relatively common root, but it’s inedible and widely used in poison.
> 
> [2]: Here it should be noted that forests on Matthew’s planet aren’t, as a general rule, green. Trees tend to have leaves colored red, pink, or purple, somewhat similar to a purple-y beefsteak plant, iresine, bloodleaf, or perhaps even the coloring of a red cabbage. There are still green plants, of course, just in among all the reds and purples.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder! Unless otherwise stated, they are both speaking Matthew's language. As I don't want to give an accent on Alfred's speech because it wouldn't be useful for understanding how he sounds in a made up language, his grammar and word order will be strange as he learns the language better.

"Why own this?” Alfred asks, grabbing Matthew’s tail with both hands.

“Why do I have a tail?” Matthew says back. He’s realized that as strange as Alfred is, he’s also incredibly intelligent. If he correctly repeats his words back at him, Alfred will pick up the difference. His grasp of the old language has made learning modern language much smoother. “We used to have stingers.”

For a moment, Alfred thinks this over as he studies his tail. Alfred’s insatiable curiosity amuses Matthew, and he twitches his tail a bit to tease him. Instead of being too upset that it’s harder to keep the tail in his grasp, Alfred gasps in excitement and watches it close, trailing his fingers along the side. The gentle caress feels much too intimate for Matthew, and he pulls it behind his back, flushing just a bit.

“Stingers?” Alfred asks once he’s no longer distracted.

Matthew tries to think of another way to phrase it and can’t. So he demonstrates- he walks his fingers across his leg like an insect might and uses his thumb as a stinger. “Stinger,” Matthew says pointing at his thumb. “Stinger.”

After a moment of walking his hand around his leg and humming a happy tune, Matthew gasps as though he’s startled ‘the insect’ and jams his thumb into his leg. To really sell it, Matthew grabs his leg and makes a pained sound and falls over. The theatrics win him hearty laughter and a round of applause.

“Stinger!” Alfred says. “I know!” He leans sideways trying to look at Matthew’s tail again, even more curious than before.

Well, at least he’s never bored with Alfred around. 

—

After Alfred has adjusted enough to the planet that he’s no longer in danger of sickness, he gets to work. As it turns out, his escape pod also has a large metal briefcase that functions as a portable mini-laboratory. Alfred explains that he’s an astrobiologist, and it leaves Matthew wondering just how accidental his crash landing was.

In the end, he decides that it doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t really want Alfred to go just yet. He pretends to believe him, so that he can keep Alfred around longer. Honestly, it’s more than just being interested in learning about aliens firsthand by living with one. Alfred as an individual is incredibly captivating. He always seems to have a boundless amount of energy and excitement for life. Even when he’s sick, Alfred always seems to have a smile for Matthew.

It’s incredibly endearing.

Watching him half scramble, half slide down a hill in his haste to investigate another variety of plant species is pretty endearing too. Or it would be if Matthew had time to stop and think about it. As it were, Matthew is shouting at him to go slower as he scrambles down after him. He’d be irritated by the reckless dash through the woods if he wasn’t well aware that he’d do the same thing after a prolonged illness.

“Come look!!” Alfred says. “What’s this???”

Matthew comes close, breathless from the run, and he leans down to look at the little flower with him. “This? Well…” He launches into a description of the flower full with scientific name. Alfred soaks it in. It almost seems like Alfred is better at technical jargon than anything else. Matthew supposes that the fact scientific names of species and science terms hadn’t changed too much from the old language. After a minute, Alfred pulls out tweezers, and he plucks leaf and a flower off the stem.

They go into a plastic bag for study later. It makes Matthew shake his head and smile. Alfred enjoys his work, and the exuberance rubs off onto him easily enough. Soon, Alfred is racing off to the next plant, and Matthew goes with him to calmly explain what this plant is. 

“Don’t touch the underside of the–” he calls out to him before he’s interrupted by a soft cry of pain. He smiles. “It has thorns.”

—

Matthew is reading a book on his tablet when he feels fingers close around his tail again. Alfred is at it again. This time though, he seems to have a particular interest in the tip. Although it is indeed true that his species had stingers thousands of years ago somewhere down the evolutionary chain, there is no sign left of it anymore. It had become purely prehensile, useful for climbing and navigating thick forests. Alfred slides his thumb over the smoothed tip of it and hums curiously. Such intent study of his body, even just his tail, makes Matthew a little nervous.

In retaliation, he moves his tail, curling it around Alfred’s wrist and yanking. Alfred cries out in surprise and falls forward onto his stomach on the floor. He looks up at Matthew with an expression of shock and disbelief, and Matthew laughs. There’s a pause and Alfred starts to laugh too. Then, the strangest expression comes onto Alfred’s face. Matthew arches a brow and eyes him suspiciously as the human moves to sit close at his side. He carefully sets the tablet off onto the side table to turn uncertain eyes on Alfred.

“What… is it??”

Alfred just shrugs and moves a bit closer, hand moving to squeeze just above Matthew’s knee. It’s so intimate to Matthew that he doesn’t know what to do beyond blushing purple and trying to push his fingers away. Alfred just changes direction and then his hands are on his stomach. For a wild moment, Matthew thinks Alfred is coming on to him- the man had showed him already how similar their DNA was compared to other species, and he’d even proven to be physically built rather similarly. Different but not so different that Matthew couldn’t see how attractive Alfred is and must surely be by human standards.

Admitting that Alfred is a physically appealing alien doesn’t mean that Matthew is gung-ho with the idea of interspecies love just yet, and honestly he isn’t sure it’s even possible. He starts to writhe away from his hands, but suddenly Alfred finds that one spot on his side that’s incredibly ticklish, and Matthew lets out a shriek of laughter and starts to thrash. He catches Alfred’s grin as he moves to try and pin Matthew against the couch.

Even though he understands what his game is now, Alfred’s hands on him are as embarrassing as they are ticklish, and he’s feeling unusually hot even while reduced to gasping laughs. When he starts fighting back though, he does get the upper hand. Matthew is an outdoorsman after all, and he is in perfect shape. He lunges at Alfred, and after a brief struggle, they both end up on the floor with Matthew on top. He catches his wrists and pins Alfred’s arms down as he tries to catch his breath. He curls his tail around one of his thighs to try and press it down. Although honestly his tail isn’t all that powerful, it’s still strong enough to be a good impediment to a writhing prisoner.

Panting, he glares down at him, but there’s still a hint of smile around his mouth. “That was rude,” Matthew says.

“You’re…” Alfred doesn’t seem to know the word and says something in English.

But Matthew understands. “Yes, I’m ticklish, how about that. Ticklish alien.”

“Ticklish,” Alfred repeats. “Fun.” He struggles for a moment, but Matthew has the upper hand and he’s not going to budge.

“Behave,” Matthew says, cheeks purple again. “Behave.”

After treating him to a long serious “I-mean-business” stare, he finally moves to climb off of him. Not before noticing how red the other is as Matthew unwinds his tail from his thigh. 


End file.
